What about me
by ThreeWildOceans
Summary: The little boy that grew up to be a Consulting Detective and his brother share a few moments. They aren't necessarily good moments. Mentions of drug use.


Written for the Shernanigans on tumblr..

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"Mummy look, I picked this in the garden. For you." Six year old Sherlock Holmes was holding up a flower for his mother to look at.  
"Hmm, yes very nice Sherlock but not now." Sherlock frowned when his mother didn't look at him.  
"But mum, you didn't look." He stretched his hand up as far as he could, he thought that maybe he wasn't tall enough for her to see.  
"Sherlock, I said not now! Go to your room and play." He looked at his shoes and tried one last time to give the flower away. Before he could reach his hand up he heard the door open and reveal Mycroft.  
"Hello mother, I saw these on my way home and I thought that you would like them." Sherlock watched as his brother pulled a bouquet from behind his back.  
"Oh Mycroft, they are lovely. Thank you sweetheart." Their mother stood up and kissed Mycroft on the cheek before making her way to the kitchen.  
"I think there's some cake left since yesterday in the fridge. Come with me and we'll eat it up before your father gets home." She winked at Mycroft and went out the door. Mycroft followed her immediately with Sherlock close behind.  
"There you go darling." Sherlock watched as his mother placed a piece of cake in front of his brother. When no such thing was placed in front of Sherlock he raised his hand and pulled lightly on his mother's pink summer dress.  
"Mummy, where's my plate?" He looked up at her, he had never seen her so angry.  
"Sherlock didn't I tell you to go to your room?" She stared down at him.  
"Yes, but I want some cake too." He sucked his lower lip into his mouth. He didn't know what he had done wrong.  
"Then why aren't you there? Go to your room now or else I'll take away your pirate books." Sherlock looked at her in horror and ran away as fast as his short legs would take him. He threw himself on his bed when he reached his room, picked up his stuffed parrot and hugged him close.  
"Stupid Mycroft and stupid mummy. You know what Nestor, I will never be nice to anyone again. It's not fair that Mycroft always get's what he wants." The stuffed parrot didn't answer but Sherlock seemed satisfied enough by the silent reply.

"Sherlock this is childish! Look at me when I'm talking to you, why are you throwing your life away?" Mycroft stared at his brother, he would never have thought that Sherlock of all people would sink so low and start using drugs.  
"It's not childish, I just want to think clearly and this is the solution!" Sherlock lay on a sofa that looked like it had been collected from a skip.  
"You could be so great, and you know that." He looked around the flat, if you could call it that.  
"Yes well, it isn't really any of your concern now is it. Dear brother." Sherlock started preparing his next fix, not caring that his brother was present.  
"Mummy's awfully worried about you." He knew that it wasn't quite true but he hoped that it would help.  
"Is she really, she tell you that when you had tea with her earlier? You still have crumbles on you." He still hesitated when their mother was mentioned and Mycroft hoped that he would come through this time.  
"I know what you're going through, what with dad's death and the school kicking you out. But please Sherlock for me, and for mother. Let me help you!" Sherlock glared at his brother.  
"You have NO idea what I'm going through Mycroft. You have never known, you always were our parent's favourite child after all. Especially mum's, I tried to do everything. You got it all, don't you see? Or are your head too filled with thoughts of cake and umbrellas to notice? " He stood up, the needle forgotten on the table.  
"Do you envy me Sherlock?" Mycroft was shocked, he never would have thought that possible. Sherlock who had all the science equipment you could ask for, Sherlock who didn't have to go to the family gatherings. Then it dawned on him, their parents had given him all those things to keep him away. Sherlock chuckled when he heard Mycroft's words.  
"Call it what you want, I've divorced myself from feelings. Now if you'll excuse me, I have more important matters to take care of." Mycroft looked at his little brother as he injected the substance that surely would kill him one day.


End file.
